


A Different Kind Of Rite

by theWickedWitchofFeels



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: Definitely Unhygienic Don't Try This At Home, F!Reader - Freeform, F/F, Fingering, Other characters just mentioned - Freeform, Sex In A Creek, Smut, Water Sex, guard duty smaurd duty, humping, no cunninglingus yet which is surprising
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theWickedWitchofFeels/pseuds/theWickedWitchofFeels
Summary: The Reader is VERY flustered by Jodariel bc she's a big gay. So is Jodariel actually.Literally just the most self indulgent smut possible because sometimes there's only fifteen fics in the tag and you gotta write the giant horned lady smut you wanna see in the world.





	A Different Kind Of Rite

_“Hnnngh - “ _

You watch, enraptured, as the giant demon lady in front of you strains to lift the cart out of yet another deep rut in the road, her biceps flexing powerfully. 

“Scribes damn these roads,” she growls through her teeth, her huge horns scraping the paint of the wagon. 

“Jodariel, mightn’t I help - “ Hedwyn offers.

“No.” Jodariel shoos him back with a toss of her head. Ti’zo flutters about, but he is even less equipped to help than the scrawny nomad boy. 

Finally, with a grunt and a huge shove, Jodariel manages to shift the wagon and lift it out over the rut. Applause for her feat breaks out from the other Nightwings, but you are too busy tugging at your collar, feeling your cheeks and… something else heat up. You pretend to be extremely busy perusing something in the Book of Rites to cover how flushed your face has become.

Damn this woman and her fantastic muscles. 

\---

There’s not nearly enough room in the wagon for much in the way of privacy. You have to wait until the deep of night to make this burning go away. 

Fortunately, the Nightwings stopped for the night in a calm, deep forest by a creek and not somewhere as inhospitable as the Harps’ fiery home or the Flagging Hand. You sneak out of the wagon, being very careful not to wake Ti’zo, Sir Gilman, or Rukey, the lightest sleepers of the lot. 

Jodariel, on watch outside as is her custom, turns her odd, glowing blue-silver eyes on you. 

“I’m just going to wash up,” you say. 

Jodariel nods and goes back to looking out for dangers. 

You make your way to the creek. It’s slow moving, and looks almost like liquid crystal in the moonlight. You dip a toe in. It’s fucking _freezing_. You sigh and strip, leaving your clothes in a neat pile by a tree. 

Maybe you as the Reader don’t take part in the physical competitions of the Rites, but it doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the grime and sweat of the road. It takes a minute for you to get used to the icy cold water, but eventually you’re sat in it, the water just up to your breasts. 

You lie your head back on a rock and think back on the day. After Jodariel had wrested the wagon from the rut, you had taken time for Vocations; you had been sorely tempted to mentor her, but she was already the most powerful member of your team, and you didn’t know if you could have stood reading there with her so close, her overpowering scent - cinnamon? - wreathing about you. So you had instead opted to read in private, just the Book and yourself. It had been hard to concentrate, but it was the best option you could think of. 

Ever since the day when Hedwyn had picked you up off the ground, nearly dead, and nursed you back to health, you had always nursed a crush on Jodariel. It only grew with the intimacy required of the Rites; nary a Rite went by that Jodariel wasn’t on your team. 

You sigh and sink a bit lower in the water, so that it covers your breasts and laps at your shoulders. The currents and eddies of the creek seem to writhe at your nipples and pussy, making you even more aroused than you already are. You groan as your hands wander over your body, desperate to quell your desire.

You look up at the stars. Oh, Scribes… Another, louder groan escapes you. You hope that the stream’s burbling will cover it. Navigating Rites is nothing to this. You circle your clit, thinking of Jodariel. You pinch your nipple and imagine it is her hand doing it, bare of her glove and callused from years of holding weapons and other heavy objects.  
Unfortunately, your own slim, soft hand is paltry substitution. 

Sighing, you cut straight to the chase, shoving two fingers inside yourself. You wonder how large Jodariel’s must be; her hand is nearly twice the size of yours. The thought makes you groan and thrust faster, wanting to rush to satisfaction and put it out of your mind. “Jod...Jodie…”

Suddenly you hear a crashing in the forest behind you. You whirl and sink down into the water until only your head is above the surface, expecting a Night Howler. They’re not usually that large though… 

To your horror, a familiar horned figure comes into view.

“Are you all right?” Jodariel asks. “I heard you moaning…” 

Evidently, the stream was not enough to cover you. Either that or demons also gained keener hearing along with their horns and hooves. 

Jodariel is no fool; nor is she naive. When she catches sight of your beet-red face, understanding dawns upon her.

“Ah. You were...pleasuring yourself.” A pregnant pause. “You said my name.”

You weren’t sure if there were a hell deeper down than the Downside but right then you longed for it to open up and swallow you to spare you this embarrassment. 

Jodariel’s brows were furrowed even further than normal, her eyes glowing in the night. She seems to be considering something.

“Reader...do you wish… for company?” She says haltingly. 

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Part of you wants to shake your head and implore Jodariel to forget any of this happened, but the other part of you - the part directly connected to your throbbing clit and pussy and hard nipples - are rejoicing. 

Eventually, one part wins out. 

“Y-Yes, please, ma’am.” You stammer. 

“This does not mean there is anything more than friendship between us, you must understand.” Jodariel unwinds her scarf and undoes the clasp in the shape of a feather, hanging it on a nearby tree. “But it would not do if you are distracted by your baser desires during a Rite, would it?” 

You aren’t sure that seeing Jodariel naked would lead to any less distraction in Rites, but you nod anyway, unable to hide your eagerness anymore. You sit up straighter now, so that your chest is exposed to the chilly night air again. 

Jodariel shucks her breastplate with its many, many notches, and carefully puts it on a rock away from the dirt and wet. Finally, she’s down to only her undertunic and pants covering long, thick, powerful goat-like legs, another side-effect of many years in the Downside. Jodariel saw them as a symbol of her disgrace, but in her features you saw only beauty, and a heart you had grown to trust. 

“Beautiful.” You say. You were always a woman of few words, but the few you uttered, carried weight. Jodariel’s lips drew into a rare smile. 

“You are sure that you want this?” She asks.

“Yes, Jodariel-“ 

“I think we have gotten to the point you may call me Jodi. Everyone does. And you know me better than most.” Jodariel gives a wry chuckle as she pulls her shirt off and starts unwinding her breast band. 

Already you are in awe seeing her well toned abs in all of their glory, but when her breasts are revealed, large and soft and shining pale in the moonlight, you are stunned into gaping again. “Wow…” 

“If you keep gaping like that an imp will fly right into your mouth,” Jodariel says with amusement as she steps into the stream. Even sitting down, she’s so big that most of her chest is above the water. 

You’re entranced. “May I kiss you?” You hear yourself say. 

“Of course you may.” 

You lean forward and press your lips to Jodariel’s. They’re surprisingly soft, not chapped but you feel a scar from some long-past battle. You poke your tongue out to trace it and find your tongue in Jodariel’s mouth. You feel Jodariel’s huge hands on your bare chest, dwarfing your breasts as they knead and caress with just the right amount of pressure. You make a mental note to ask if she might massage your back some time. Hunching over reading the Book will make you as humpbacked as the bog-crones someday. 

You finally surface for air after several heartbeats. “You… have done this before…” You pant.

“Are you surprised?” Jodariel asks, her eyes glinting with amusement. “The other women and I in my corps used to… release tension sometimes like this. I could see the signs of your frustration from miles away. And smell.” 

You groan, hiding your face in her shoulder. “Is it that bad?” 

She chuckles, the sound vibrating deep in her chest. “No, I do not think the others would notice. Except perhaps Rukey.” 

Your second groan is cut off by the feeling of one of Jodariel’s hands traveling down your body. She pauses over the scars that crisscross your body, not dissimilar to some of hers. She is quiet. 

Then she resumes, reaching the hair that covers your pussy. You moan and buck into her hand, her huge hand warm in the cool stream water. There is a hum as Jodie shifts, holding tight to your hips now as she sits up straighter and holds you in her lap. You’re facing away from her, so your hands have nothing to do but grip her knee or knead your breast. You hope that she will allow you to reciprocate; you’ve dreamt of worshipping her muscles for many nights. 

“Is this alright?” she whispers in your ear. You feel one of her horns gently bump against your head. 

“Yes, yes yes…” You moan, bucking into her hand again. 

Jodariel huffs a quiet laugh and starts circling your clit with her finger. You can feel her breasts against your back. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling pleasure mounting up rapidly as your hips shudder and shake in the water; it is not going to take long. 

It takes some effort, but you gather yourself enough to wriggle around in Jodariel’s arms so you’re facing her. Or, rather, currently facing her breasts. Between them is a tattoo, of some symbol you don’t recognize. White scars crisscross her skin even here. Dusky nipples adorn the tips of the round mounds. You bring your hands up to caress them, hold them, feel their weight in your hands. 

You take a look up at Jodariel. She’s stilled her finger, much to your disappointment, and is watching you with amusement. Her hand is still between your legs, though, so you hump it, and her leg below it. 

“Someone is wanting.” Jodariel drives her knee more into your pussy. “Inside?” 

“Yes!” you pant, a wanton moan falling from your lips along with your consent. 

You feel her do so, her finger as big as two of your own, and it’s so much, and it’s perfect - Jodariel starts moving her finger, and you continue humping. With her thumb, Jodariel rubs your clit, firmly but gently. The previously languid creek splashes around you with every movement the two of you make. 

Between everything, it’s not long at all before the pleasure climaxes in an orgasm that has you throwing your head back wordlessly, as if screaming for all the Scribes to hear. You clench around Jodariel’s finger and bury your head in her chest as your body is gripped by wave after wave of heavenly pleasure, more than you’ve ever been able to coax out of yourself. Reflexively you grasp about for anything to hold, and your hand somehow finds her horn. You grip it tightly as Jodariel keeps going, bringing you to a second, even more intense orgasm on the tail of the first. This time you give voice, moaning like nothing else in the Downside. You’re coming so hard, you see stars. You swear you almost see the Scribes themselves. 

“Oh, _Scribes,_ Jodie…” you sigh as you finally drift down from ecstasy as if on a cloud. You go limp, lying on her with your head pillowed on her chest. 

You feel Jodie’s chest rumbling. “If the others didn’t hear you before, they did now,” she comments softly. 

You huff quietly. At the moment you can’t bring yourself to care. Hopefully they’ll think it was a Night Howler. 

“C’mon.” Jodariel takes you in her arms bridal style and stands up out of the stream. 

“B-but I didn’t do you…” you protest tiredly, gently slapping at her breast. 

“You look fit to sleep for a fortnight,” Jodariel says. “Another night, you can.” 

Another night. You smile contentedly as Jodariel puts you down for you to put your clothes back on. Your body is still glowing with the aftereffects of the incredible orgasms.

When you get back to the wagon, Jodariel sits back down to continue watch. Fortunately the others were not beset upon by Howlers, and are still contentedly asleep. 

Unfortunately, your re-entrance does not go wholly unnoticed.

A green mist writhes around the Beyonder Crystal and forms the shape of a young woman in Rite rainments.

“Someone had a good time dragging our guard away,” Sandra comments snidely. You flip her a rude gesture and toss a burlap bag over the crystal. You slip into bed and eventually fall asleep to her muffled protests and demands to know how Jodariel was as a lover. 

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in a _long time._

**Author's Note:**

> it's written in second person past tense bc that's how the game is written 
> 
> keep an eye out for part two bc i'm thirsty


End file.
